Darker Than Dementors
by WonderlandSyndrome
Summary: Education gives you the powerful upper hand. - Lexaeus, Vexen & Zexion short story
1. Arrival and Adjustments

**Characters:** Lexaeus, Vexen, Zexion **Time Period**: Pre-CoM **Rating/Warnings:** K+/Mild fantasy violence

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**Darker Than Dementors**

**Part I**

**Arrival and Adjustments**

"Interesting! Completely fascinating!"

Vexen pushes his glasses back up his nose, and passes Lexaeus the sheets of information over the table top. "Aside from normal humans, this world seems to possess a whole race of humanoids that possess magic beings, all of which inherit their powers through the family blood line." Lexaeus studies the papers and photographs with careful eyes behind his own glasses. Vexen continues. "They seem to have different societies, although the magical human population are far more aware of the other, and they are able to inter-breed. Strange, isn't it?"

"Very," the Silent Hero yawns. It is late in the evening, and they have not even made headway with the research they had been given. "Who is the most advanced?"

"Depends" Vexen shrugs. "In magic and wonderment, it's these Wizards. However, in the technological deportment, they are more or less in the dark ages."

"How pitiful" Zexion says in a mocking tone, as he walks in from the kitchen with three cups of coffee. "They practically shun the mechanics of their non-sorcery kind, thinking _they_ are more superior. Morons."

"I hope you have this same attitude towards them when we get there, VI" Vexen smirks. "It may make things more interesting. Nevertheless, you can't judge them straight away. They may have their reasons."

"_Like_?"

"The non-magical humans - Muggles as they are known as to the Wizards - used to burn, drown or torture anyone suspected of baring magical properties."

"Gods! This whole world is barking mad" Zexion exclaims, shaking his head widely. Lexaeus places a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Don't lose your composure, Zexion" he sooths. "Different worlds have different cultures and ideas. You of all people should understand that."

"Yes, yes. You are quite right, Lexaeus" the Schemer nods, patting the large hand with a thankful attitude. "If we are going to investigate this race, we have to understand their history and ways. Not to make rash comments." He straightens up, fitting his hair in an attempt to not let himself fall asleep. "Let's get sorted out. Do we have our story sorted out yet?"

"Indeed." Vexen hands his comrades a piece of parchment each. "We are highly knowledgeable Wizards from a far off country on an educational visit to teach a higher school year of students advanced illusions. Professor Zexion Read," his hand gestures towards Number VI in a flattering, grand manner, "is going to show and teach the children simple tricks while Professor Lexaeus Stone," he gives V a similar gesture, "and Professor Vexen Frost" he presses a finger against his own chest, "will help him as acting class assistances."

"Good, good." Zexion's lips purse into a paled line. "I hope I will be convincing enough. I've been learning their verbal spells for mouths, but that might not be enough."

"You are a brilliant liar, Zexion, and a charmer," Vexen smirks. "You can sell ice to Eskimos. Oh, speaking of sell." IV stands up and walks to the table in the far corner of the room. Sat upon it, there are three white flat boxes. Each box has a label with a name. He brings them over to the table. "My order came in today." Inside, made with splendid detail and with special care, are some fashioned robes. Stitched and styled to perfecting, they were just like those worn by Wizards - Vexen's are silver and ice blue, Lexaeus' are green and dark red, and Zexion's are purple and black.

"They are well-made," Lexaeus comments with a small smirk on his face, as he rubs the silky material between his thumb and finger.

"Oh, I like these" Zexion smirks. He wraps himself up in one, his skinny body lost under the ton of fabric. "Now I just can't _wait_ to go."

**OOO**

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (location untraceable) is a vast, archaic castle hidden amounts misty, rugged mountains, with a mass area of ground to get lost in, and a large, dark lake in which even the dead can drown. The weather is cold today, and damp. It might rain later today.

Inside the main body of this boarding school, the three Nobody elders, dressed up in their new threads, are being led through the endless route of corridors by the deputy headmistress: a highly respectable woman by the name of Minerva McGonagall. She is tall, severe-looking and walks grandly and confidently next to them. Her black hair, without a single grey strand in sight, is tied back into a tight, neat bun, hidden under her pointed hat, which is purposely cocked to one side. She is prim-looking, with face which promised knowledge and wisdom beyond measure. The men find her absolutely fascinating. Particularly Vexen.

"I dare say that learning to be an Animagus must have taken much studying and self-encouragement," the ice mage says, walking in perfect pace with the Witch. "You must be very talented at magic, madam."

"Indeed," Minerva says with a nod of her head. "I think it was one of the most challenging tasks I had to complete." She looks at him with her sharp emerald eyes. They are just like his. "Are you interested in becoming an Animagus, Professor Frost?"

"Oh, no, no, no" Vexen insists quickly, waving the idea away with his left hand. "I'm just an admirer of shape-shifting in general. Besides, I dread to think what my animal form would be. For example, yours, Professor, is highly respectable. Cats are cunning, hunters, capable at looking after themselves and have a great, long history with Wizard-kind. I may not be so lucky. Gods only know what I may be."

"A dusty old crow" Zexion sneers under his breath, wickedly smirking.

Vexen gives him a cold look over his shoulder. "And you will be a _weasel_."

"And Lexaeus will be a bear" Zexion response cheerfully, not caring one bit about Vexen's bitter expression. Lexaeus rolls his eyes.

Minerva stops them in front of a gargoyle statue, standing within an arch in the wall. The Nobodies look at it curiously. The Witch steps forward towards it.

"Password?" the gargoyle demands.

"Pumpkin pasties" answers Minerva, and suddenly, the statue slides away, and so does some of the wall within the arch, to revile a room.

Within this room, there are many spindly tables, delicate instruments and humongous host of spin-worn books and animated pictures. Puffs of mystical smoke dance in the air. There is a shallow basin on one of the tables, and its content a silvery substance that was neither liquid nor gas. At the opposite end of room, at a large desk writing away, is a bearded, old Wizard. He has a crooked nose, his fingers long, and his blue eyes twinkles with a boyish gleam. A beautiful, fire-coloured bird is perch on a stand behind him.

"Here are the foreign teachers who are going to educate the students in illusion, Professor Dumbledore," Minerva says, gesturing towards the three men behind her.

Albus Dumbledore rose, striding around the table to greet them. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall. That will be all."

The woman bows and turns on her heel, leaving the Nobodies with this powerful Sorcerer. "Now," the man smiles, with up-most kindness, "which one of you fine gentlemen is Zexion Read?"

"I am" Zexion says, stepping out. He bows and holds his hand out. "And may I say it is an honour to finally meet you, sir. A delightful privilege."

"Thank you." Albus shakes the boy's hand with both of his. "I've heard great things about you as well, my boy. I dare say, you _do_ look young for a Wizard of your skill."

"I was the class swot" Zexion smirks, winking, making the headmaster laugh.

"Humour. I like that in a scholar." He turns to the other two. "And you must be Vexen Frost and Lexaeus Stone. It's marvellous to be meeting you as well." He shakes them warmly by the hand. "Welcome, all of you. Welcome to Hogwarts."

"You have a very fine school here, Professor," Lexaeus comments with a small smile.

"Thank you," Albus nods. "Oh, I am sorry. You all must be wary from your travels."

"We are quite tired," Vexen lies. They had actually only used a portal to get to the grounds, and walked the rest of the way. It took them only half-an-hour to reach the main gate.

"I will show you to your quarters" the headmaster says, leading them to the way out, "and you must sit at the professors' table for dinner tonight. I insist - no, I demand it."

"Thank you, sir" Zexion smiles, "we would love to."

They are in.

**OOO**

Until they were properly sat at the dinner table, the Nobodies had not quite grasped how many Wizards there are in this World… that is until they saw the endless sea of students that managed to fit along four banquet tables. Every ethic, nationality and background is here, chattering together so a dim din rings through the echoing hall. From the professors' table, the children are a mass of black robes, reminding the men of Shadow Heartless.

They can see a few of the students that are sat closest to the head table look up at them and whisper to each other, pointing at them. Even in a magical community, a muscular, extremely tall titan, a longhaired, twitchy, bony-hipped elder and a small, pointed-face grey-haired youth stand out well in the crowd. Nobodies normally do.

They are sat on the headmaster's most left hand side - Zexion closest, then Lexaeus and finally Vexen. The poor Academic is stuck next to a strange, maybe crazed woman named Sybill Trelawney, whose glasses make her look like at petrified owl. She keeps muttering over tarot cards, and Vexen tries not to pay any attention to her. A quick feeling of uncertainty falls over him when he hears her say something about "darkness" and "impostors" but he quickly dismisses it. Pure chance, that's all.

"Professor" Zexion says quietly, tapping Albus gently on the arm to gain the man's attention. "Who is that?" he asks, pointing to a black-clad Wizard with greasy-looking black hair, dark soulless eyes, and a permanent scowl. He was the type of man who is so private and locked up within his own mind, that even Zexion would have a hard time cracking his thoughts open.

"That is Severus Snape," Albus tells him. "The Potions Master. A bit of an aloft character, isn't he?"

"Very." Potions that the Schemer is more common with are able to repair muscle tissues and crushed bone in seconds, but in this world, they are used for a whole manner of tasks. This Severus must be intelligent.

"There is something about him… I can't put my finger on it,"Zexion whispers as he leans over to his comrades. "We might have to keep an eye on him. He smells heavily of diabolical power."

"He does give an air of darkness" Lexaeus nods. "Do you think he has an affiliation with the Heartless?"

"He is involved with_ some_ form of dark power" Vexen muses. "I can feel it."

"We can't worry about that now," Zexion tells them. "We are here to learn about the weaknesses and strengths of this race for the Organization, not to look for trouble and to be nosing into other people's business. If he is a part of a band of dark entities, let him, unless he becomes an annoyance in our research."

Lexaeus and Vexen fully agree.

**OOO**

"Are you nervous about your first class, Zexion?" Vexen asks as he brushes his hair, getting rid of the stubborn tangles. Their room is small but cosy, and it is well furnished. The candles give a slight glow, making everything a feel of closeness and warmth.

Zexion puts his quill back into its inkwell and turns around in his desk chair to face him.

"Vexen. First thing after breakfast, I will have to play at teacher and try to convince a class of magical adolescents that I am the real deal, and try not to cock up too badly."

Vexen puts his brush on his side table and sits on his four-poster bed. He asks again. "Zexion. Are you nervous?"

The Schemer smirks childishly. "I am _terrified_." He stands up, stretching his arms above his head like a tired tabby. "I can at least try my best, right?"

"Of course," Vexen agrees, pulling his cover around him. "Lexaeus and I have complete faith in you. Don't we, V?"

"Absolutely" Lexaeus smiles, pushing his spectacles back up his roman nose again. He is glancing over the parchment that was given to them by Albus, which he had spread across his own bed. "You never fail."

"Thanks for the praise," Zexion says smugly. "What time is breakfast?"

Lexaeus checks the timetable in his hand. "7:30."

"I'll set the alarm for 6:30 then" the boy sighs, twisting the key on the back of the rickety-looking alarm clock; the type with bell ears. "That should give us enough time to wash and dress." With that, he clambers into his own bed, losing himself into the feather quilt as if it's a cloud.

"Do you have anything you need for the class, Zexion?" Vexen ask, arching a brow.

Zexion nods. "Yes, yes. I have written all the important notes down" he says with a wave of his hand, towards the writing desk in the corner. He settles his head against the pillow. "I just need to prey of a good day tomorrow now. Good night."

**OOO**

The classroom they were given is a basic room, with the right number of desks and chairs for the students, a large table for Zexion to work on and a blackboard. Very little else is needed. When they arrived, all of the students were already there, acting like normal students would do before lessons - perked on table surfaces, gossiping and laughing at juvenile jokes. A few enchanted paper airplanes and birds swoop across the roof beams.

The heavy oak doors at the back of the room open with an almightily _bang_ as the Nobodies enter. The young Wizards quickly race to their seats, getting their wands and books out onto the desks, and kicking bags under the chairs. All is silent as Zexion walks down the aisle in the middle of said desks, eyes watching him all the time. He keeps his blue eyes forward, the feeling of importance clinching to him. His heels of his Organization boots (the only bit of uniform he is still wearing) scrape the stone floor, and his lexicon is held tightly to his chest. His partners close the doors behind them and take a seat at the back.

Zexion reaches his table, drops his tome carefully and opens it up to a page full of notes. He places his hands firmly onto the paper in front of him, and gives the children a good look over. He knows that Hogwarts has a house system, and he knows the different colours for each house. It's humid in here, so everyone had shrugged off their robes, but he has the ties to work with. He makes a mental note that most of the students are mixed with others from different houses, apart from the green-tied students - the Slytherin house - who are all together in a big heard at the back. They might cause some problems.

His brooding over, the Schemer straightens up and smiles as warmly as possible.

"Good morning" he begins. "If you haven't already heard, I am Professor Read and I will be teaching illusion to you lucky people." He gestures to the back, and most of the students look over their shoulders. "The gentlemen with me today are Professors Frost and Professor Stone, and I wish for you to treat them with respect." He sighs lightly, shaking his head to himself. So far so good. Don't mess this up, Zexion_. _"In my class, everyone is equal." He gives the students a sharp look. "_Everyone_." All the students take sneaky looks towards a young lad with glasses and messy black hair, as if they all knew why Zexion said that. The man places his hands of his frail hips, looking menacing. "I don't care who your parents are, if your half-Muggle or pure-blooded, or if you are the bloody he-queen of Sheba. You are all the same to me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the students answer in unison and Zexion relaxes. He can get away with this.

"Now. Illusions are complex magic," he says calmly, officially beginning the class. "You need to be creative and have a clear mind." He paces up and down the front of the chalkboard slowly. "Though, I must warn you. Illusion _is_ associated with the mind. If you don't know what you are doing and your spells backfire," he stops and faces them, grinning crazily; teeth clanged, "you might turn absolutely, positively mad." A cluster of girls from Hufflepuff giggle with him, and he give them a little wink, making them giggle again, a little louder. He thought he was pretty good at this, not to blow his own horn or anything."Illusions are tricky," he continues, getting to the point. "They are hard to understand and can fool people into thinking that the fake is actually reality. I mean," he shrugs, battering his eyelashes, "I might not actually be here right now."

Students laugh with him again, amused with his behaviour. None of the Slytherins do, but let them be moody.

"Let's start with duplication," Zexion says. It was simple for him to do. He just has to summon a clone. The students don't have it so easy. They have to _learn_ to do it. "Allow me to show you." He raises his hand and with a flourished movement, a second Zexion appears out of nowhere, and it slowly opens its pretty blue eyes. It gains the odd 'oo' and 'aw', and a round of nattering. "A handsome devil, isn't he?" Zexion grins. "I am able to create many of these copies, and control all of them as well." He waves his hand again and the clone evaporates. "Who would like to come up here and give it a go?"

No one volunteers, so Zexion chooses from his list of students' names. "Let's have… Ronald Weasley up here. Where's Ron?"

A blue-eyed boy with a freckled complexion and bright red hair moans, hiding his head in his arms. There he is.

"Oh, come on," Zexion teases. "Get your wand and arse up here." Reluctantly, Ron stands and shuffles over to Zexion slowly, showing him how much he is not enjoying this. Zexion shakes his head. "It could be worse."

"I guess," Ron shrugs.

"Now, Ron" Zexion says softly, "what I want you to do is to flick your wand just so and say the words 'ego effingus.' Say it back to me."

"…Ego effingus" Ron says flatly.

Zexion rolls his eyes. "Come on, Boy. With feeling. _Ego effingus_!"

"Ego effingus!" Ron repeats, a little louder, harder.

"Better" Zexion grins. He turns Ron towards an empty space. "Now cast the spell."

Bracing himself, Ron raises his battered wand. He licks his dry lips and calls out the entrenchment at the top of his voice.

"Ego effingus!"

A spark shot out of the end of the willow and a second embodiment of Ron falls to the floor with 'thump.' It is a pretty go attempt, very close to the real deal… apart of the lack of a face. Some of the classmates laugh on impulse, not wanting to be mean. The Slytherins are howling. Bastards.

"It's an improvement, Weasley!"

Ron bitterly flicks his wand again, so the disfigured double vanishes. His brow is furrowed but his face is aflame with a red blush. It clashes terribly with his hair. Zexion shakes his head with a understand manner and places a friendly hand the boy's shoulder.

"Don't listen to them," he tells them. "Actually, for a first go, it was excellent."

Ron blinks at him. "Really?"

"Certainly. When I first started this type of magic, my duplicates had missing _limbs_ for many years" the man lies. "If you keep practicing, I'm sure you can create perfect doubles just in a couple of years. Maybe less."

Ron doesn't believe him. He smiles a little. "You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

"Heavens no" Zexion playfully gasps. "You tried, and it's a brilliant attempt. Well done, Ron."

A proud grin appears over the boy's face. "Thanks, Professor."

"Get a room" a silver-blond, shape-faced Slytherin sneered. A few of his friend cackled with him. Zexion gives them a cold, deadly glare and they fall quiet. He lets Ron sit down and then calmly walks over to the pool of green, his eyes always on the grey-irises of the student who tried insulted him in an infantile way.

"Oh yes" the Schemer sighs coolly, stopping in front of the teenager's desk, folding his arm. "I've heard about you. You're Draco Malfoy. Correct?"

"And what if I am?" Draco grins wickedly, playing with Zexion. The Nobody arches a brow.

"It's not very nice to make rude comments about people," Zexion tells him. "I don't see you giving it a go."

"Why should I?" the boy sneers. He gives Zexion a look over, up and down, unimpressed by his appearance. "You look nothing like a proper Professor. You look more like a student."

"Trust me, child. I am much older then I appear."

"Why should we listen to you?" Draco barks. "All of this stuff is not important to us. You're just a - Ahh!"

Zexion grabs Draco by the shirt collar and pulls him up to his feet, shocking him. His lackeys watch in slight horror. Everyone else watches in surprises. Lexaeus and Vexen - forgotten at the back of the room - look on and do nothing.

"You listen to me, boy," Zexion snarls to Draco, his blue eyes blazing and hair shadowing his face, giving him a fearful face. "I have seen horrors and nightmares then you can't even believe in." His voice is dripping with grim fury, his hand tightening their grip. "I've seen strangers and loved ones die in ghastly pain in front of my eyes. I've had spells and weapons scar me, physically _and _mentally. I have stared death in the face and laughed mockingly at it with glee. I have dealt with greater Hells then you, and I have more to come. I'm here to offer a chance for people to use illusions to full effect. Not to please snobby gits like you. Now if you don't want to learn, you can at least be helpful to the ones who do and keep your pale, _foul, scowling, cruel little mouth shut or, better yet, leave_!"

He lets go of Draco's shirt, and the boy falls down into his chair with a loud clatter. Draco's hand rests his neck and he stares at the man with wide eyes. Zexion scowls down at him, and then turns on the rest of the Slytherins. "That goes for the lot of you!" Quickly, the entire house gets up, grabs their belonging, and runs to the door, getting as far away from Zexion as possible. The Schemer exhales calmly as the door closes, dusting down his robes with his nippy fingers.

"Thank Gods. I thought they would never leave. Glooming up the place like that..." He turns to the remaining students and smiles again, clapping and rubbing his hands together. "Now, how many of you would like to conjure up lions and tigers for the rest of the lesson?"

A forest of eager hands shoot up, waving around. All of them had forgotten about Zexion's attack on the Slytherins already. Ron leans over to his messy-haired friend, smirking into his ear.

"I like him" he says. "He's out of his bloody tree, but I like him."

"I do believe we have created a monster," Lexaeus sighs, smiling slightly with a shake of his head.

"It wouldn't be the first time" Vexen shrugs. "Let the child have his fun."

"Oh, I will. I will."

**OOO**

Despite it being so brisk, the sunlight is warm enough to sit out in the courtyard, so some students were dotted around the grass, playing exploding snap and finishing homework. Vexen didn't feel the cold like any normal man, so the chill doesn't matter. He had found himself a bench under a tree, and is now writing up about the Wizards in a report for the Superior. It's a difficult task. Theyshould have studied full-grown adult Wizards, not children. None of them are mature enough to take seriously for this report. They should have gone to a large community, not a school. Like - what was that name? Diagonally…? Dilagon…? Oh, doesn't matter. He puts away his quill and shifts his spectacles. Maybe some reading would help.

Suddenly, Zexion comes storming over, his face covered in soot.

"What happened to you?" Vexen asks, chewing down a smirk.

"Damned Fred and George is what happened," the young man yells at him in a strained voice.

Vexen arches his brow. "Fred and Geor-? Oh! Ronald's brothers. The twins?"

"Correct." Zexion takes the handkerchief that Vexen offers him. "Thank you… They got me with this firecracker thing and went racing down the corridor, howling like idiotic hyenas. Gods, they are just as bad as Axel and Demyx. Maybe even more so."

"Now that _is_ saying something," Vexen chuckles, opening his large book to a marked page. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry. I'm going to get them back." Zexion sits down on the grass, tucking his feet under himself neatly. "I just need a plan." He glances up at his elder. "What are you reading? You look every interested in it."

"Just something I picked up - Hey!"

Zexion grabs the book and flips it over, reading the blurb. "This is about extinct magical creatures of this world. Why are you reading this?"

"Give it here." Vexen snatches the book back. He scowls down at the illusionist. "A Ravenclaw girl gave it to me as a thank you for getting her shoes down from a chandelier."

Zexion sniggers. "And _why_ were her shoes on a chandelier?"

"Because some of the students in this school are horrid. They got throw up there. When I found her, she was barefooted. I recovered them for her, she gave me one look and asked straight away if I'm half-banshee."

Zexion laughs loudly. "Sounds like a weird child."

"She is. She had this whimsical expression on her face, like she was spaced out." The scientist turns back to his book, ignoring Zexion now. "If she had the kindness of giving me this, I should at least read it."

"Ha." Zexion smiles fondly. "Vexen: hero of the moment."

"Shut it."

Lexaeus comes over, looking tired and fed-up, and sits on the bench with a sigh.

"Oh dear, another grump. What's wrong with _you_?" Zexion asks.

"Ten times" Lexaeus grumbles, resting his head in his large hand. "Ten times this morning, I've been asked if I'm part-giant."

"It's better than banshee" Vexen huffs under his breath.

"Well, you_ are _very big compared to most people, Lexaeus" Zexion shrugs. He tilts his head up in thought, nibbling his bottom lip. "Isn't the groundskeeper here for giant descent?" he asks absently. "…How does that work, anyway?"

"What does it matter?" Lexaeus grumbles. He runs his hand through his wavy brown locks. "It was amusing the first few times but now the students are getting on my nerves."

"Oh, but you have the temper of a saint, Lex" Vexen tells him. "What are they doing?"

"Well, every time I turn around…" Lexaeus trails off and looks over his shoulder, and his comrades do too. A small group of lower school girls hiding behind a tree gasp as they release they have been spotted and run away towards the castle entrance, giggling light-heartedly and their faces flush in high colour. Lexaeus grunts. "See what I mean?"

"Aww. Lex thinks little girls are laughing at him," Zexion teases. The older man shots him a hard glare.

Vexen is still reading, but he steps in. "Little _boys_ follow people around to be mean. Little girls follow people around because they like them."

Lexaeus blinks at him, bushy eyebrow raised in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, Lexaeus." Zexion reaches out and gives his friend's knee a squeeze. "You've gained yourself a little fan club."

"But-But…" Lexaeus stutters, briefly looking back at the tree. "Why?"

"Because you're tall, strong, handsome and mysterious" Vexen sighs, flicking to the next page. "Women like that sort of thing."

"_And_" Zexion grins, "I've heard you bare resemble to the men of the Durmstrang Institution. They are pretty infamous with the females."

Lexaeus takes this all in, and then a wide smirk crosses his face. "Oh. Well, that's not so bad then…"


	2. Everyday Happenings

**Darker Than Dementors**

**Part II**

**Everyday Happenings**

Zexion is now realising that the Wizard called Severus Snape can be very, _very _scary when he wants to be… and that is most of the time apparently.

The poor Schemer is up against the door of his classroom, holding his lexicon close to his chest like a shield, locked in a stare with the Professor of Potions' black cold, deep eyes. Zexion knew that his outcry towards Draco and the other Slytherin children would come back to haunt him, and if he knew that Severus was the head of that house… he probably wouldn't have done it in the first place.

"I know that my students are not the easiest to work with" says Severus, his voice cool, slow and mellow, which gave the expression that he is holding back something. It worries Zexion. "Nevertheless, threatening them by hand and shirt ruff is not appropriate. Is it?"

The boy nods slightly, agreeing.

"I know, Professor Snape" he says quietly. He tucks a tress of silky hair behind his ear and straightens up. "…I admit that my treatment of your students was a little over-the-top and… a bit harsh, but I don't want a room of children who don't pay attention-"

"If you were having trouble with them, you could have told me" Severus tells him. "I could have straightened everything out."

Zexion gulps and becomes very aware of the heavy-looking book in the man's hands.

"I apologies for shouting and for acting horribly" the boy says, "yet I must stand my ground on this. I know you are a proud teacher and work your pupils hard no matter what, but I refuse to teach those who have no interest to learn. As they say, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't force it to drink."

Severus arches a brow, and bows his head, making Zexion twitch a little. He just stares right through him, seeing into him.

"…You are an odd fellow, Read" the man grumbles. "…It's like you don't fit in with this picture."

Zexion furrows his brow, his mouth twisting into a scrawl.

"I can say the same about you, Professor" he mumbles. "You absolutely reek of the darkness."

Severus' mouth tenses tight and strained, and Zexion tries not to waver.

"I am onto you, boy" the Wizard breaths. "You and your friends are obviously up to something."

A sensation like worry and panic passes down the Nobody's spine. He outwardly smirks, covering it up.

"We'll be gone before you get anyone onto us" he tells the man smugly. Severus takes a step forward, and Zexion takes one back. He bangs his head against the door.

"Was that… a joke?" the man sneers, "or a challenge?" His voice is dripping with cruelty, and a chill that could rival Xemnas' demeanour. Zexion's eyes widen at this thought.

"Well, I- erm, you see-"

"Professor Read?"

The men's heads turn towards their interrupter - A pretty girl with a bushy, brunette mane and warm brown eyes, who would be quite stunning if she tried. Zexion's face brightens with joy at the sight for her. Hermione: his savoir.

"Miss Granger. Wonderful to see you" Zexion says with a high, pleased voice. He opens the door and ushers the girl inside. "I'm afraid our little chat must stop here, Professor." He smiles towards Severus, not properly meeting his black irises. "I must now see to Miss Granger here, and I have a few dozen piles of papers to go over. I'm sure you have your own work to go over as well, being as busy and as important as you are. I mustn't keep you. See you at dinner. Bye-bye."

Before the black-clad man could open his mouth in response, the door slams shut in his face. Zexion turns the dull bronze key in its rusty, stiff lock. He breathes a long sigh of relief and his hands stop shacking so much. Hermione is standing and waiting for him, her spell books held tightly in her hands and robe free from scruffy marks.

"Are you alright, Professor?" she asks, and Zexion smiles at her.

"Peachy." He tries to walk over to her, but his long robe is caught in the door. He makes a queer frustrated sound like a growl, and he manages to tug it free without any ripping. "I just got into a run-in with your potions teacher, that's all…" He nods his head causally over to the door, like it was the said teacher. "Is he normally that… _friendly_?"

Hermione laughs softly. "Oh yes. He's our social butterfly."

"I see." Zexion rubs his cold hands together and walks through the student desks to his own table. Once clear, it is now covered in heavy, thick books, rolls of parchments and a handful of ink bottles. (Some empty, some full, many at different levels between.) It's messy, but things do have their places - Text to the left, paper to the right. He places his lexicon on the piles of books, and perches himself on the edge of the table, beckoning the girl over. "So what brings you to me, Hermione?"

"I just wanted to hand in my essay on famous illusionists you asked us to do" the girl tells him, factually. She pulls out a hefty amount of parchment sandwiched that was between her books. "That's all."

Zexion's eyes widen in surprise. "Already?"

"Erm… Yes."

"I only set it two days ago." He takes the browned paper and starts to go through it ruefully. "And I gave you all a week to do it in."

"I thought you might appreciate it if you have it in early" Hermione shrugs. Zexion thinks that the girl is little more but a bookworm and a busybody, to be blunt, but he just leafs through the essay without saying a word. The student's work is very impressive. The presentation is superb; bullet-pointed facts, subheadings and footnotes scrawled in tiny but readable handwriting at the bottom. He _is_ impressed.

While he is lost in pictures and information, Hermione stands and watches him, like he is a mouse in a wire cage, and she is taking metal notes on his actions and cheese eating. She know he is powerful and mightily, but putting great magic with such a youthfully, handsome face like his doesn't feel right. Compared to his companions - the _much_ oldermen he arrived with - he is like a child with a mature streak to him, and the other two are just here to keep him out of trouble, like guardians.

Zexion looks up and his eyebrow cocks slightly. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She blushes and shifts uneasy (she _never _gets embarrassed like this, this easy!) trying to hide the fact that she was staring. She opens her mouth and tires to speck.

"…I-I was just thinking, Professor."

"You're the type of person who thinks a lot" Zexion says simply. "I can tell. I'm like that too. Even as we speak, we are thinking at a millions of ideas and wonders per second." The Witch gives a slight nod and Zexion smirks. "What are you thinking about?"

"…Honestly" Herminie says, "I'm thinking that you don't look professional enough to be a professor."

Zexion's nose wrinkles and he huffs childishly.

"Well, I was just thinking of a nice quiet walk around the school, hopefully without bumping into Snape again," he tells her sharply, "but now I'm thinking that you look _too professional _to be student."

Hermione laughs behind her hand and Zexion can't help smiling too. He slips off the table and places a hand on the Witch's shoulder, leading her towards the door. "Come. It's a lovely day outside. You should be in the sunshine having fun. Not cooped up in here."

"What about my homework?" Hermione asks. Zexion shakes his head.

"They say that all work and no play or rest makes Jack a dull boy" he smiles. He unlocks the door and a breeze enters, brushing his hair out of his face. "Well, I don't know about Jack, but I know it defiantly makes me a moody git."

**OOO**

The sun shines through the leaves of the archaic trees, casting freckled shadows across the path which was taking Vexen farther and farther away from the castle. A book is tucked under his arm and his other hand is deep into his robe pocket, feeding his mouth sweets which he had confiscated from a student during class. Bertie Bott's every flavour beans are quite an experience. Some are quite lovely, like cherry, marshmallow and cookie dough… and some are just plain ghastly, like salt and paint. The insanity of it all was outstanding.

The scientist chews lazily on the two beans in his mouth - ham and orange are interesting combined - and keeps his eyes open for any sign of life; especially the young life of Luna Lovegood. Despite the fact the book on extinct creatures was a gift from the girl; the man thought it was not very fair to take a child's book, no matter the circumstance. No, he is not being soft! He is just going to return it. He asked around to find out where she is, and was told to search the grounds. So now he is.

He pulls a tart face and quickly spits out the earwax bean, and spits some more. The terrible taste plagues his mouth, so he chooses another one to wash away the taste. It's salad dressing. Never mind. It's better than _damned earwax__!_

A shrill call strikes through the air and Vexen looks upward. Through a gap between the boughs and branches, a shadowed figure flies quickly across the blue sky like a bolt of black lightning. The man's green eyes widen in surprise and he quickens his pace down the path. What in the name of the Gods was that thing?

From reading Luna's book (which is now an unwanted weight fighting against his speed), he knows that there are many amazing animals in this world, so now he is curious to find out what that thing was. He bursts through bushes and plants, and stumbles into a clearing… and freezes. The tree-ringed paddock is filled with a team of… horses? Well, they look like horses, in a way.

They are skeletal, reptile in appearance, and look like rotten, animated corpses of stallions with large bat wings on their backs. Their noses are beaked and they are nothing but skin, no hair. Their tails are as dry and brittle as snake skin. Their eyes are milky and life-less. In the middle of the paddock, Luna is petting a foal softly and idly. It makes cooing, approving noises under the touch.

"…Um. Luna?"

The child quickly twists around, startling the little skeletal horse which cries and flaps his undersized wings in protest, and she smiles.

"Professor Frost" Luna smiles in her airy, cheerful voice, and comes skipping over to him, acting like an Irish pixie. As she stops right of front of the man, Vexen looks down to her feet; she is wearing shoes today. "What are you doing out here?"

"I came to return - um - wait a second, what are _you_ doing out here?" Vexen asks, turning the tables. "What are these creatures?" He waves his hand towards the twisted horses. Luna looks around too, then back to him, grinning.

"Oh. You can see the thestrals too?"

Vexen does not understand. "Of course I can see them. They are right in front of my face."

Luna smiles and shakes her head. "You don't understand, Professor" the young Witch laughs. "Thestrals are creatures that can only be seen by those who have witnessed death."

"Ah" Vexen says in an understanding tone. "I see. Yes, I have witnessed a handful of passing in my lifetime." (His own, for one good example.) He pauses for a moment, thinking for a short while. He places his hand on his chin. "Wait. If you can see them, then that much mean you have seen death as well."

"Yes," Luna said, quite confidently. "My mum."

"Oh. I am sorry."

"It's okay. I still have Dad."

"…Forgive me for asking but… how did she die?"

"One of her spell experiments went wrong when I was about nine… It was quite gory."

Vexen shudder at the fact that Luna was saying it all so calmly, like it was normal conversation. He clears his throat, trying to gain some of his confidence again.

"Luna. I actually wanted to return your book." He places the heavy text into her hands. "It was very kind of you to give it to me, but I don't feel right taking it from you."

Luna's eyes enlarge in confusion and bewilderment. Maybe hurt but Vexen can't say for sure. "But it's a gift."

"Yes, and a very thoughtful gift it is too. I even read the text from cover to cover. I just don't think it's very fair of me to take a child's book."

Who are you, and what did you do to the real Vexen?, a voice asked from the back of his head.

"It's perfectly fine, Professor" Luna reassures him. "I have another copy anyway." She places the hardback into his chilly hands again. "I insist."

Vexen sighs and tucks the book under his arm again. "So I guess walking all the way down here was a waste of time."

"You got to see the thestrals" Luan says helpfully.

Vexen looks over her head, towards two of the creatures fighting over the same scrap of meat, right next to the feeding tray.

"I'm honoured to be with such mighty beasts." He digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a handful of beans. He offers the sweets to the Witch. "Here. Take a few." The girl puts on a thoughtful face, finger to lip, and picks a couple. She eats a white bean, her face twists at the taste and Vexen smirks. "Something wrong?"

"I thought it was ice cream." She swallows and smiles. "It's mayonnaise."

**OOO**

"…But we didn't mean to do it, Professor Stone!"

"I don't want to hear it, Fred."

"But, sir-!"

"I don't want to hear it from you _either_, George."

The Weasley twins twist and struggle in Lexaeus' grip as he drags them down the corridor. They leave a stream of water behind like a snail trial on the floor. Their robes are dripping wet and they smell bad, just like watered-down urine. Everyone watches them as they walk by.

"We didn't mean to drench _you_, Professor" Fred pleads.

"Yeah" agrees George. "We would have never have done it if we know you were there!"

"So if I wasn't there, you would have flooded the toilets anyway," Lexaeus growls. "For Gods' sake, I smell like a drowned sewage rat and poor Myrtle will be whiling her head off all week!"

"Poor Myrtle!" George exclaims. "Poor Myrtle he says. She's a ghost! She can go wherever she feels like."

"That is not the point- Oh, never mind." The Hero sighs deeply, shaking his head. "Heavens above. If I ever meet your mother, I will give the poor woman a hug and a medal for having to cope with hoodlum sons like you. And you."

"We are not hoodlums" Fred huffs, feeling quite offended.

"Yeah" George agrees. He somehow managed to point a serious finger at his capturer. "There is an important difference."

Lexaeus moans quietly, rolling his sapphire eyes.

"Alright. I'll humour you." He stops and brings the boys to his front, so they are facing him and he is look down at them, keeping his rock-firm grip on their cloaks. A puddle starts to form at their feet. "Do tell me. What is the difference between you and regular troublesome teenagers?"

The twins blink up at him for a moment, as if musing over the question with much consideration. Then they look at each other, having a private wordless talk about the answer between them. Finally, confident with a reply, they look at Lexaeus, smile broadly and retort in unison.

"We have a flare of style in our work."

Lexaeus groans, bowing his head low. He says nothing in a decent response; instead he starts to drag them along again.

"As soon as I find Professor McGonagall, the better," he mutters to himself.

The twins' eyes widen in shock. "What! You can't take us to McGonagall! She will-"

"It's what you deserve" Lexaeus cuts in. "You might prosper from a little light punishment anyway. Take it from an old man who has already been there and done it."

The Nobody briefly remembers the furious expression on Ansem's face after a seventeen year old Aeleus took his ninetieth trip sledging down the north staircase and landed in a heap on the ground, the other apprentices cowering on the top-landing. The carpeting was never quite the same again. Neither was Aeleus' right elbow.

As the waterlogged trio get every closer to Minerva's office, they past a cluster of first years who pause in their gossiping to watch the scene. The twins manage to wave and greet their little sister as they go on by.

"'ello Ginny. Goodbye Ginny."

Ginny furrows her brow at her older brothers, the freckles on her nose clustering together as she escapes her giggling friends to fall in sync with Lexaeus' large, wide pacing.

"What did they do?" she asks, unimpressed. Lexaeus briefs her of the details.

"They flooded the girl's bathroom on the first floor. It's completely blocked off now. They are going to see Miss McGonagall… Oh look, boys. We're here." Fred and George try to wiggle out of the giant's grasp, but he will not weaken his hold. "Open the door please, Ginny."

The little Witch twists the door handle, but it doesn't move any more than a quarter-inch clockwise. "It's locked."

"Oh well. She's out. Guess we'll have to do this some other time."

"Oh no, you don't."

The boys try to run away again, but Lexaeus just lifts them up in the air, their legs kicking wildly as they are suspended high above.

"Hey, put us down!"

"This is stupid!"

Lexaeus does not answer to the protests. He sees a small, iron chandelier hanging from the low ceiling. He smirks, lifts the struggling lads just a little higher and hooks the hood of their robes onto two separate empty candle holders. With the equal weight on each side, the metallic ring starts to turn around, like a decorative mobile dripping a circular pattern of water onto the stone floor. Everyone around them laughs. The twins narrow their eyes at Lexaeus and scrawl in the most infantile way.

"You're mean, sir."

"Don't take it too personally, boys" Lexaeus says with a wicked grin. He borrows a scrap of parchment and something to write with from a sniggering Ginny, scribbles out a quick message - _To Minerva, From Lexaeus (Good Luck) _- and stabs the paper onto a spike on the chandelier, making sure to miss his writing.

"Now, you stay there and wait like good little boys" he adds, before turning on his heel, leaving the fuming boys and the amused students spinning them like a toy top. Ginny catches him up and falls into step with the Hero again.

"Don't be mad at them, Professor Stone" she smiles. "They only do it for a bit of fun."

"I am aware of their taste of entertainment" the man sighs, shrugging off his damp robe. His white tunic underneath has gone slightly transparent along his abdomen but he does not give a damn about that right now; or the older, suddenly giddy female students. "Goodness sake, how do you deal with them, Ginny?"

"When you have lived with Fred and George all your life, you get used to mayhem and exploding toilets" the girl shrugs causally, and Lexaeus chuckles.

Honestly, the Silent Hero doesn't mind the students' pranks and jokes anymore. In fact, he is getting used to the shenanigans of the children and, really, he is starting to quite like them personally. He can remember who is related to who, and their behavioural patterns, and he didn't mind having gangs of young giggling misses follow him around like bleating lambs after their shepherd.

If they were brave enough to approach him, he and the girls will talk fondly about anything they want, and sometimes - if he was in a good mood and full of energy - Lexaeus will give the littler ones shoulder-rides down corridors and across the courtyard, and the way they squeal and laugh with glee makes him chuckle. He would never admit it, but Lexaeus would have fun carrying them around.

His nose wrinkles in disgust at his unwanted odour. He isn't having so much fun at the moment.

"I'll be in the bath for hours trying to get rid of this stench" he grumbles.

Ginny tugs her reddish, soft hair behind her ear. "Well, after you have bathed and rubbed off a layer of stinky skin, would you like to come down to the Great Hall and play in a chess tournament?" she asks. She shrugs again. "You know, for fun."

"…I would like that" Lexaeus smiles, warmly. "You may count me in."

"Great. Maybe you can help me with some moves" Ginny smirks, giving him a wink.

He chuckles a "maybe" and takes his lone, separate way up the forever twisting stairs.


	3. Strangers in the Night

**Darker Than Dementors**

**Part III**

**Strangers in the Night**

Sometimes after the evening meal, Zexion holds study sessions with his students on the Gyffindor table. All of the Slytherins have abandoned his class after his assault on Draco, but the other three houses are always welcome to join. Some of the children from different years have often sneaked in at the back and listened in on the classes, joined in with summoning fake creatures and diving into the darkest pits of the mind and imagination. Of course, Zexion's priority is always to keep his class going and get to understand the race of Wizards.

"You know, Professor," Harry smiles across the table, pushing his jet-black hair out of his bright, green eyes, "it will be a shame when you leave. These classes have been great."

"Thank you, Harry" Zexion says cheerfully, feeling quite smug now, "but you know that we must return to our homeland soon. We are only meant to be here for a short time."

"Maybe we can say something to Dumbledore" Seamus suggests.

"Yeah" Dean agrees. "Maybe we can convince him to consider a transfer."

That gets everyone hyped up and they start to talk how much of a brilliant idea it was. Zexion purses his lips awkwardly. He knows that he and his fellow Nobodies can stay far too long, never mind forever. If they ever overstayed their visit, Xemnas would send Saïx or Xigbar to find them and bring them back, and they might not go it so quietly. He picks up his mug of pumpkin juice and bangs the table with it lightly, to gain the students' attention and shut them up.

"…That is very flattering" he sighs, taking a drink when they are finally quiet. "However, that is not possible. Our home and friends will need us back soon."

"That a shame. We learned a lot with you three." Neville looks grimly at the parchments they had spread out across the oak table. "Although I haven't seemed to have improved much."

"Practice, Neville," Zexion smiles, raising his head a little higher. "Practice and patience is the key to succeed in life in general. That includes in magic. Plus, having a cool head and being full of peace even in a difficult situation doesn't hurt-" He suddenly stops and stares across the table, seeing Severus on the other side of the room, looking over his house. Zexion pales until he is white as bone. "Oh Gods, hide me!"

He ducks under the table, fast as a rabbit down its burrow hiding from its predator. He startles the group of students, getting tangled up between their legs. Some of them yelp. Zexion bangs his head against the underneath of the table and curses under his breath. Slowly, his tutor group takes a look under the table.

"Hey, Professor?" Harry asks. "Are you al-"

"_Don't look at me!_"

They leap back up again. Zexion tries to calm himself down, pushing hair out of his face, only to have it fall back into his vision again. "I can't have Snape find me. I'm not in his good books at all!"

"…Did you do something to him?" Hermione asks, not sounding very impressed.

"…"

"Professor?"

"I'm heading towards the door now. I was never here."

Carefully, but as quickly as he can, Zexion makes his way through the twisted mess of legs and bags, climbing over shoes and banging his head more or less all the way down the table. "Ouch. Damn, my head. I got to get out of-"

"Hey!"

"Sorry, sorry."

"What the hell!"

"Don't mind me. Just passing through."

"Ahh!"

"Ah. Didn't mean to put my hand there. Ouch! Not again."

After much crawling and, now a rather nasty lump form on his head, the Schemer finally reaches the out of the long table. Freedom seemed to be in his grasp. Now he just has to get to the door and slip out without Snape seeing. No one will be the wis…

When he gets to the end, Zexion is face-to-face with a nice, polished pair of black boots, currently being worn by feet. The owner of said feet is wearing a black cloak too. He looks up - and would you believe it - it's Severus.

Zexion stands up slowly and dusts his own purple cloak off, running a few fingers through his hair. The Wizard before him bears an unreadable look, but looks a little sterner than normal.

"You were not trying to avoid me, were you, Read?" Severus asks, arching him brow just a bit.

Zexion shakes his head. "What? Me, avoid you? Who would think of such a thing?"

"…Someone broke into my office last night and got into my storage room" Severus says coolly. "The place where I keep the equipment and ingredients for my potion classes… _You_ wouldn't happen to know who the culprit is, would you, Read?"

Zexion shakes his head. "No, no. I don't but I'll keep my ear to the ground for you, shall I?"

"Hold out your hands."

"…O…kay…" Confused, the young Nobody holds out his hands, palms up, fingers fanned. From the folds of his robes, Severus pulls out his wand - long, black, very straight and strong. It looks like it's made from ebony, but Zexion can't really tell for sure.

Wrist stiff, Severus flicks his wand once and taps the boy's palm. Zexion closes his eyes tight, expecting pain but all he felt was a warm, tingling sensation, like sunlight caressing his flesh. When the feeling fades, he opens his eyes again. His fingers are now stained with a vibrant pink colour. He blinks, staring at his hands then looks back at Severus. The man does not look impressed.

"I dusted the shelves of my storage room with a powder of my own creation" he says, putting his wand safely away. Zexion has been caught red-handed. Or should that be pink-handed?

The boy places his marked palms into his pockets. "…I can explain."

"I'm listening."

"…"

Severus closes his eyes, breathing a soundless sigh. "You are worse than a student."

"…I was curious. You're always so secretive and-" Zexion shuts up. The wand is back out and aimed directly for the Schemer's pointed nose. Zexion stares at it, making him boz-eyed. By now, most of the students are looking at them. The ones at the end of the hall are craning their necks to see the men across the hall.

"I do not meddle in your business, Read. I will be grateful if you don't meddle in mine."

The boy laughs nervously, carefully pushing the wand out of his face with his little finger. "Ha, ha. Nice wand. Finely made. Ollivander's work if I'm not mistaken."

Severus arches a brow. He does not put his wand away. "That just reminded me… Never once have I seen you nor your two companions use wands. I haven't even seen them in your hands."

Zexion's mouth twinges. By now, the few students in the hall are staring at them, some muttering between one another. The Schemer keeps his cool.

"We have no need for them, since we can just do verbal spells."

"Verbal-only spells takes years to master and a lot of dedication" Snape tells him. "How can a boy like you master them at such a tender age?"

"Why do you ask? Maybe I'm a magical prodigy for all you know-"

"Excuse me." They pause in their bickering and look around. Lexaeus and Vexen have arrived. The scientist points at the illusionist. "I do believe that is our lad that you are threatening. It would be kind of you to return him to us please, Severus."

"I'm not some doll to be passed around" Zexion grumbles bitterly, but Vexen's words have seemed to work, or maybe it's the two bigger, stronger men's presents that has done to tricked, because Severus steps away from him and allows the young man to retreat to Lexaeus' side.

"I have other matters to attend to anyway" the Wizard says calmly. He walks out of the hall, his cloak waving behind him in the breeze. "Good evening, gentlemen."

Then he is gone. The Nobodies look at each other for a moment, taking in what just happened. Brow furrowing, Zexion is positively angry. He storms out of the hall, robes flapping around him like wings. The students left behind slowly start to pack up their books and parchments. Study group is over for today.

"What did you do to Snape, Zexion?" Vexen asks, as he and Lexaeus try to keep up with the pissed-off boy making his way through the courtyard.

"I didn't do anything!" Zexion barks. "I did nothing to the black-hearted git!" A large hand grabs him, making him come to a stop. Lexaeus looks at the pink fading on the Schemer's skin.

"You must have done _something_ to annoy him" the earth-worker mumbles.

Zexion snatches his hand back, rubbing at the reminding pink ruthlessly. "You know I have suspicions about him. I was just doing a little investigating. I didn't steal anything for his _precious _storage room, so why is he so- Oh, forget it." He pulls his sleeves over his stained hands and catches his breath. "We have been here for over one and a-half months and we still don't understand these backward people."

"They are not backward" Vexen corrects him. "Their society is just different from ours Now stop being such a brat."

"I'm not a brat" Zexion huffs. "Just because I'm three decades younger then you, don't make me a brat-"

"I think we need to get away from the school for a while" Lexaeus suggests, once again being the voice of reason. "Let's walk down to Hogsmeade and visit one of the pubs. A small drink may relax us."

"That's the most intelligent suggest anyone has made all day" Zexion smiles, finally cheering up a little. "Who's buying?"

**OOO**

The Three Broomsticks Inn was already quite crowded when the Nobodies arrived but they managed to snag a table to themselves in a darkened corner end of the way. Vexen did suggest the Hog's Head, because it was quieter and they would be out of earshot from everyone, but Zexion didn't like the look of the place… and it smelt too bad.

Lexaeus ordered butterbeer for them all first, but it didn't take them long to get started on the hard stuff; such as firewhiskey.

"I don't know what I did to ruffle old Snape's feathers," Zexion slurs over his tenth glass of the evening, a little flushed-faced. His finger trails around the rim of the tumbler lazily. "All I said was that he smelt of the darkness. It could have been his cologne or something. How do I know? I think the bloke just has it out for me."

"It's not very polite, you know" Vexen quips, draining the last of the liquid from the bottle into his glass before finishing his sentence, "going around sniffing people. It's just rude."

"It's just as rude for people to shove their smells into my face" the boy scoffs. He taps the bridge of his nose in an important manner. "My nose suffers a lot thanks to thoughtless people."

"What do you mean by shoving smells into your face?" Lexaeus asks, who is rarely confused. It must be the drink. "How does that happen?"

"It's when the odors get stupidly strong and they know it" the Schemer explains. "Like when you come back from physical training and you know you smell of sweat but you don't have a shower down there; you just come back to the quarters for a shower and stink up the place.

"I don't like the showers for the training arenas" the Hero huffs. "They are not the nicest of places."

"You just don't what anyone to see you naked" the Academic smirks. "They are community showers after all."

"I am not shy, nor ashamed" Lexaeus says quite confidently. "I just prefer not to-"

"Show-off."

"Yes- I mean no. No. Stop putting words into my mouth."

"It's not that you normally talk about yourself anyway." Pausing for a moment, Vexen raises his hand in the air to gain the landlady's attention and holds up three fingers, indicating another round of drinks. When she smiles and nods, walking away to get the order, the man turns back to the conversation. "You are a quite powerful yet quiet fellow, Lexaeus. Maybe if you raised your voice once and awhile, the younger Nobodies may take you more seriously."

"I don't care about what people think of me" the Hero shrugs. "Shallow opinions from strangers are of no importance to me."

Madam Rosmerta comes walking over with a tray balanced in her hand, all smiles and good services. She places the new glasses full of whiskey onto the table and places the empties onto the tray in return.

"Can I get you boys anything else?"

"No thank you" Vexen smiles. "We are content for now."

"Fine enough. Call if you need anything." They watch the curvy, attractive woman stroll away and they make sure they are alone again before starting up their talk once more.

"It's quite quaint here" Zexion sighs, cupping his new tumbler carefully with his gloved fingers. "A little medieval maybe, but it is still nice in its own way."

"Planning to retire here?" Lexaeus jokes.

Zexion rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "No. I'm just saying it bears a certain charm."

"Hm. I must agree with you though. It's not so bad of a place."

"Good grief," Vexen smacks his forehead. "Don't tell me you two are starting to like the place. You _know_ we can't stay here."

"We know, we know." Zexion takes a quick swig from his glass. "We were just saying it's quite nice here. We would never consider actually staying."

"We would never be able to do it" Lexaeus grumbles. "Nobodies living amounts human communities is fool's talk. It's not heard of and unlikely to happen."

"And unlikely to succeed" Vexen points out. "We are not a very sociable bunch to begin with."

"But we can dream, can't we?" the Schemer sighs. "We have nothing _but _dreams in our strange existence."

"And drink."

"Yes. And drink, Vexen."

"I've actually become quite fond of this firewhiskey" the scientist smiles, very dopily. "We will need to take back a few bottles to Never Was with us."

"You have taken quite a liking to Wizard food, IV" Lexaeus peers at him over his glass. "Speaking of which, whatever happened to all of the packets of sweets we confiscated during this week's classes."

Vexen blinks, than looks in the opposite direction away from the comrades' smiles.

"I don't know. The boggarts got to them, maybe?"

Towards the midnight hour, Madam Rosmerta started to turn out all the drunkards and locals out of her pub, and the Nobodies had to make their slow way up the hills back to the school. Although the evening is cold, pretty much like every night in this place, the firewhiskey is still having a good effect on the earth-worker and illusionist. Vexen likes the cold so it doesn't matter to him, obviously.

Zexion is stumbling around the most. Alcohol does that to him. Still walking, he leans up against Lexaeus' side. He yawns a little, cheeks burning like he is some foolish, immature drunk.

He mumbles under his breath. "…Lex, give me a piggyback ride up the hill."

"No."

"Please."

"Forget it."

"I said please."

"I know you did but it's still no."

"Meanie." The boy just huffs and crosses his arms. He even pouts a little, which Lexaeus finds quite amusing. A bony finger taps his broad shoulder, and the Hero turns to look at Vexen. The ice mage's eyes are lidded and cloudy.

"…Can _I_ have a piggyback?"

"Definitely not. You will do my back in."

"I am surprisingly light, for your information" the scientist scoffs, pushing his hair back out of his narrowing eyes.

Zexion sniggers. "You won't be light if you keep taking candy off the children during class-"

Then all of a sudden, the Schemer freezes, standing dead still in the middle of the path, like a spark of amazing thought had hit him, or lightning had struck something inside his mind. It takes a moment for the other two Nobodies to realize that their comrade had stopped, and they turn around to look at the boy.

"…Is something wrong?" Lexaeus asks, arching a brow. Out of habit, Zexion places two fingers on his nose, pinching the bridge softly.

"…I can smell something" he mumbles.

"Well, that really not a major newsflash, VI" Vexen says impassively.

The boy shakes his head. "No, no. I smell darkness. Like Snape but… stronger. Like there's more…" Then he just wonders off towards the trees like a child moving his attention away from its guardians, leaving his elders behind.

With a tired sigh, Vexen shakes his head and glances over to the earth-worker. "Come on. We better follow him."

Lexaeus nods once in agreement, and the two of them walk into the unknown after the younger man. They found him hiding behind a large oak tree, peeking out to spy across the way. Vexen shakes his head again. "Zexi-"

"Shh!" Zexion makes a stern shushing sound, finger pressed against his lips. The older men blink at him but obey, looking over the young man's head.

In the misty light of the white moon, they can see black figures walking through the trees, their cloaks billowing around them. At first, Lexaeus and Vexen believe that they could be some of their own kind, probably dropping in for a unannounced visit… but then their see their faces or, to be more accurate, their masks. Under their hoods, the wandering people are wearing metallic masks with haunting faces upon them, shining in the moon's glow.

"Who are they?" Vexen whispers, arching a brow.

"They look like Death Eaters. We read up about them, remember?" Zexion touches his nose again, "and they are the source of the stench…" He watches the Wizards disappear into the shadows of the boughs and shivering leaves, before pursing his lips. "I do believe that they are heading towards Hogwarts." He turns to his friends, brushing slate hair out of his pretty eyes. "Does anyone else sense trouble brewing?"

"Indeed" Lexaeus agrees. He extends his hand before him and summons his axe sword in a dark flash of red and black. "Maybe we should cut the troublesome weeds down before it grows into a bother for us."

A devious little smile spreads across Zexion's lips. "That sounds pretty fun actually. Playing at wizards is entertaining and all, but Nobody business is what we do best, no?" With a shift movement of his wrist, his heavy, leather-bound lexicon is at hand. He looks up at Vexen. "Care you join in with the hunt, IV?"

The Academic sighs, rolling his eyes, "I suppose someone has to keep an eye on the two of you. Gods only know what you would do unsupervised." With an icy snap, his frost-covered shield is on his left arm. "Let's go then."

"Hold on for second." Zexion turns around and with a snap of his fingers, a dozen or so Dusks are standing before them, hissing and continually moving in flawless quivers of their flexible muscles. The Schemer puts on a dominate air. "They are people wearing black cloaks and masks walking up the hill through this forest" he tells the creatures in a strong voice. "We want you go on before us, track them down and capture as many as you can."

"_**Would you like us destroy them after capturing them, Master Zexion?"**_

"No, no. We don't want to make a mess. Just bring them back to us. Alive."

"_**Yes, my liege."**_

With the orders given, the Dusks glide after their targets, slivering through the wind like asps in dry grass. The three Nobodies raise the hoods on their wizard cloaks.

The hunt is on.

**OOO**

Trudging through this forest is bad enough in the day, but during the night when you can't even see where you are going is just plain deadly.

This group of Death Eaters is getting bloody sick and tired of all of this. Where was Hogwarts? It didn't just pick itself up and moved away… Well, that's what they want to think anyway. It will just keep them a little bit sane for longer if they think of that.

"This is getting tedious" the woman of the trio hisses under her breath. "Why don't we just teleport to the school, instead of just walking through here without a clue?"

"Hogwarts is protected with charms and spells that would baffle most Wizards" the leader up front gruffly tells her. "If we just appear, it may cause trouble for us… Are you keeping up?"

They pause as the youngest Death Eater, the rookie of the group. He was just standing there, looking back into the darkness.

"…I think something is following us."

"It might be a unicorn or something" the leader shrugs. "They might be curious of us, but we really need to keep moving, so no lollygagging!"

"I don't think it's a unicorn." The rookie tries to look through the shadows, focusing on a distant, soft noise. "It sounds more like snakes."

"Maybe a nest of adders" the woman sighs, crossing her arms. "Non-magical animal do come into his forest as well."

"Sounds like one big nest… What is that?" Through the black, white emerges. There are many, _many _gliding, hovering creatures of white filling the air, heading towards them with open, toothy mouths. _"What the hell are they?"_

"Out of the way, you fool!" The leader pushes the frightened new boy away and pulls out his wand, pointing it straight at the bizarre things. "_Incendio!_"

A blast of orange flames shoots out of the wand's end, blazing out towards the creatures at an amazing speed… and the damned things just jump and spin around it as artful as dancers. It didn't hit any of them.

"Run!"

The Death Eaters scattering into the unknown in different directions, scampering over raised roots and rough terrain. The leader soon finds that he alone in the greenery, in the dark, in the nothing. There is nothing out here. No crows, no woodland mice, no owls flying over. All noise is gone.

He takes it as a positive. No hissing meant that those… whatever-they-may-be are nowhere near him. He had lost his companions, but that is only a minor blow in the grant scheme of things. Besides, he has a mission to keep: to find Hogwarts and report on any weaknesses he could find in its outer defenses. He could do that on his own, and he could return to base on his own. He will just say that there was some complications, and was separated from his group.

The Death Eater makes his lone way through the forest, trying his best to hear hissing or any other strange noises. He hears nothing for a long time, and he is happy about that. But as he continues his track over the dry leaves, through the large shrubbery, he slowly comes to the realization that something is wrong.

He hears nothing. He can't hear _anything_. Not the wind through the trees, or the crunch of the leaves under foot. He reaches up towards the boughs above and breaks off a branch, so he can hear the snap, but he can't, so he breaks off another branch, and another, and another, faster and faster until the whole tree seems to be shaking in fear from his rough, uncontrollable hands.

He hears nothing.

He finally releases the poor tree, and lowers his now-sticky hands to his ears. Had he suddenly turned deaf? Is that even possible? He is starting to panic, and is struggling to remind in control. He tries to speak, but even his voice has been muted out. What spell was this?

As he starts to consider maybe going back early was not such a bad idea, his hearing cames back in the most painful way. A high, sharp ringing enters his ears and he screams. He screams in shock, screams in pain. He clasps his palms over his lobes to try to block out the sound, but it doesn't help in the slightest. It's as if the sound is actually in his ears, forming within his head. It is so loud, so raw, too much of this sound could cause eardrums to blow and bleed.

The Death Eater becomes so distort, he is no longer paying attention to where he is stumbling towards, and slips on a large, unseasonal sheet of ice, and tumbles down a shallow ditch. He hits his head hard on a stump at the bottom, and the noise finally stops. As he lies there, all he can hear is the wind, and the distant sound of crying birds, unmistakably upset by the man's previous screaming fit.

After a few minutes to get his breath back, the Wizard manages to get himself upright. His head is throbbing, his throat is hoarse, and he is covered in a cold sweat, but he is alright, for now. He swallows, and gets himself up on his unstable feet, but soon discovers that it is a terrible idea.

As he sets both of his feet down on the ground, the mud floor seems to shift or change, softening from its solid state until it is as gooey as thick bread dough. His feet start to sink through it, and he becomes panicked once more. He tries to struggle out, but it is a hopeless attempt. Soon he is knee-deep in the oozing pool, and then waist-deep, and he doesn't stop sinking until it is almost to his neck, and it suddenly shifts again, turning into solid ground again. It is tight around his chest, and although he can still breathe, it is with great difficulty and a lot of discomfort.

Before the Wizard can shout for help, three hooded figures emerge from the shadows and surround the trapped man. The smallest figure cocks his head to the side.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" Zexion cooed.

"Are you behind this?" the Death Eater snarls breathlessly. His eyes are burning with rage behind his mask. "Let me out of this! In the name of the Dark Lord, I demand you release me! I have allies out here in these woods, and as soon as they find me you will be sorry!"

"Yes, because your allies are _worthy_ foes aren't they?" Vexen scoffs, waving a hand back towards darkness under the trees. A hissing sound comes creeping out, followed by the Dusks themselves, dragging two scared-looking Wizards behind them with their tentacle-like limbs. The Wizards look wet and dirty, and are unmasked so you can see the fear in their expressions. One of the Dusks has a pair of wands in its large, bottomless mouth, and it drops them into Zexion's free hand, like a faithful dog retrieving its owner's Sunday paper.

"We have no idea what you three were planning to do out here," the Schemer says in a smooth, emotionless tone, "but it could not have been anything good." He bows down on one knee, so he is close enough to the Death Eater to hear his short breathes beneath his mask. "Whatever you and your _lord_ are planning, we should tell you that we too have our eyes on this place, and that you should not us. There are more of us out there, and we possess magic that you Wizards have never witnessed before. Fair warning to you; we are a foe that you do not want to cross."

The Death Eater does not say anything in response. Zexion just sighs at his silence and stands up again, dusting himself off. "We will let you go this time, but come here again, we will show you what the darkness is truly capable of. V, let him go."

The largest figure, who has remained quiet from the start, takes one step forward and the earth shifts once more, so that he is able to grab the Wizard by the hood and pull him out of the mud with very little force. He sets the Wizard down by his friends, and the Dusks disappear into the nothing, releasing them.

"Don't just stand there!" Zexion barks. "Leave, before I change my mind!"

The Witch and the younger Wizard are more than willing to leave, and start to run towards the trees, but their leader seems hesitant. He slowly follows them, but it seems that he does not want to leave. He wants to stay for just a little longer. In one quick movement, he reaches for his wand hidden in his robes and sharply turns around.

"Ava-!"

And before he is even facing the Nobodies full on, there is a quick, blunt sound of a book snapping shut, and where he was once standing Zexion's lexicon falls to the ground. The remaining two Wizards stare at it in disbelieve.

"I know he would pull a stunt like that." Zexion picks up his tome, and gives it a brushing down. "You two," he sneers, addressing the Wizards. "This is a warning to you. Your idiotic friend is no longer a part of this world. I am not even sure if he is still a part of this universe any more. He is somewhere, far away, where he must face his most painful fears and terrifying nightmares. If he is of a strong mind, he will go on for a few weeks maybe without trying to killing himself, but everyone who goes there means with the same grim fate. Unless you wish to follow him, I suggest you don't do anything stupid and leave as I told you to." He tightens his grip around the wands, until they snap under the pressure, and he throws the fragments to the ground. "And take your sticks with them."

The Wizards do as they are told, pick up their broken wands and flee into the trees, running as fast as they can. When the Nobodies were sure that they were long gone, they lower their hoods and relax a little.

"Do you think that we might have been too harsh towards them?" Lexaeus asks, looking down at the book cradled in Zexion's arms.

"Since when do we care about how harsh we are," Vexen asks him. "If you ask me, we gave them too light of a punishment. He did try to harm us after all."

"Let's not argue about this right now." Zexion dismisses his weapon, and tries to take control of the situation, as he often does. "Let's just make our way back to the school. They will be locking up the gate soon, and don't really want to use a portal to get back inside just in case someone sees-"

He stops mid-word, having seen something in the corner of his eye. They all look and stare, surprised by the sight of Professor Albus Dumbledore looking at them with a serious look, standing there like a spectre in the night. He had seen enough, and now he is ready to have a quick, important word with all three of them. They had been caught out.


	4. A Quick Exit

**Darker Than Dementors**

**Part IV**

**A Quick Exit**

They have never entered the headmaster's office with such a bad atmosphere brewing in the air, and for that the Nobodies are on their toes, prepared to walk around egg shells and land mines if necessary. They are lined up in the darkened room in front of the grand desk, just like naughty little students waiting for a scolding after being caught out after-hours. The whole room is quiet and gloomy, the only sounds being made consisting of the crackling in the fireplace, and the snoring of the portraits. Behind the desk, a very young Fawkes is dozing, his head tucked under his fire-red wing. Burning Day happened about a week ago.

Albus is standing some way in front of them, looking into a stone and silver basin that appears to be too important for general hygiene. His hands are clasped behind his back, his body still as the chill and soundlessness envelops them. Finally, he speaks.

"I knew there were something unearthly about you three," the Wizard says in a low voice, only just loud enough for the words to exist. "I felt it in the pit of my stomach, in the back of my mind… Now I know that you are not of this world at all. The way you dispatched those Death Eaters, summoned weapons from the air, brought forth twisted minions to do your bidding…" He pauses, and turns around, eyes surprisingly dark. "What are you?"

The trio says nothing, lips tightening into paled lines. They may have shown loyalty to the Wizard over the past few weeks, but the Organization comes first. It always comes first. Albus takes a few steps towards them, descending down the couple of steps to be at their level.

"Please don't make me force it out of you" he says. "I've become quite fond of you all. We should not be pulled down the level of violence." He steps in front of the men and looks at them in turn; Lexaeus to the right, Vexen to the left, then Zexion in the very middle. "You're the leader here, right?"

The boy says nothing, and doesn't even nod his head and shake it. It's obvious that he is the main goon here. He's the transfer teacher after all. He just stays in a locked stare with the Wizard, brilliant blue eyes meeting another, so similar in shade and brightness.

Calmly, Albus raises his hand and presses it against the Schemer's chest, off-centre to the left. Lexaeus and Vexen flinch, ready to pull their comrade away from the old man at the drop of a hat, but Zexion remains quite and composed. The warm hand against his torso applies a touch more pressure, searching for something under the lad's purple robes and white flesh, but finds nothing. It finally pulls back, and the fingers curl into a fist, knuckles cracking a little with the strain. Albus looks at his hand, studying it. He sighs, turning and walking back over to the desk.

"Nobodies. I should have known."

The trio's eyes widen a touch, honestly astonished by the man's words and the knowledge he seems to bare. Zexion's own hand raises and rest against his empty, hollowed-out rib cage.

"…So you have heard of our kind" he mumbles, rubbing his chest lightly. "We didn't think the word about us had travelled as far as out here."

"You are not _well_-known on this world. Only a select few have heard about your threat, or even about other worlds… but you don't live to be as old as me and not learn about the other worlds out there" Albus says neutrally. He sits himself down in his chair, closing his eyes and facing the Nobodies. He pressed the tips of his fingers together. "I tend not to meddle in the affairs of distant planets… but when those planets start to meddle here, I'm afraid I don't just bury my head in the sand." He narrows his eyes at them. "I must admit that you three are the first high-class Nobodies I've seen. A rarity indeed… Ah, the Organization then? I have heard of you. You must be a part of the Organization."

"You have heard quite a lot" Zexion says with nothing in his voice. Not even false flattery and hate.

Albus does not answer him properly. He just shrugs. "What business does the Organization have here, amongst the walls of Hogwarts? What is your mission?"

Lexaeus crosses his arms over his chest. "This is strictly recon" he says in his grumbling voice. "That fight with those Death Eaters had not been part of this mission."

"And when your mission is over, then what?" The Wizard sounds almost angry now. "Will you return to our masters and tell them of our weakness and our ways?"

"What we do is our own business" Vexen tells him.

Albus arches a brow. "True enough, but what happens in my school is _my_ business." The Wizard stands and turns his back on them once more, heading over to the window. "I don't think it is right to have you here any longer."

"…We see your reasoning" Zexion says quietly, a small smile on his lips. His hands go behind his back as he walks over to the old man. "You do not wish us to stay. That is understandable." Vexen and Lexaeus watch the Schemer as he summons up his lexicon, darkness leaping from its leather cover. That private tome of his is made of nightmares. The sanest of men that have had the worst of luck to be trapped within the pages would been pushed over the edge into madness one way or another. Only the strong-willed escape, notably not as the same people as they were before going in. After thirty, forty minutes stuck in there, most kill themselves. It all depends on how sound-minded they are. For Heartless, the time is much less, having very little minds to begin with.

"If you wish for us to leave" the boy says in a friendly tone, "we will. There will be no argument, no complaints." He opens his lexicon and finds the right pages he needs without even looking at them, power bright in his eyes. "We will be gone as soon as you want, dear sir. Now why don't we just get this all sorted-"

There is a flash of light, the boy flies back across the room, howling in intense pain. Lexicon faded away, he crashes before his friends' feet, and hisses and spits curse words as he tries to kill the flames on his robes and bare hand with battering, frantic and panicked. Lexaeus comes to his aid, beating the flames with his larger, gloved hands. Vexen places his frosty hands on the boy's skin and the ice kills the fire, leaving the burns sheen with melt-water. They breathe a sigh of relieve. The Academic closes his eyes, pulling his hands away.

"Gods alive… Zexion, are you alright?"

The slate-haired boy makes a distressed noise, feeble and shock-up, only able to look at his damaged, shivering hand with disbelief. It's nothing that a hi-potion can't fix, his robes now tattered and ruined, but the speed and the power behind that spell was bone-quaking, mind-numbing even, far more dangerous than that of the fire Heartless. Hell, it was almost the likes of Axel. The Wizard didn't even raise his wand or say _incendio _or whatever the ruddy spell is. To Dumbledore, that was just a warning shot.

A shadow casts over the Nobodies on the floor and they look up, the Wizard's piercing, sharp irises, ancient magic blazing within them.

"Do not take me for a fool, gentlemen" Dumbledore rumbles. "…You may stay to say your goodbyes but I want you gone by tomorrow afternoon at the latest; gone for good. The Organization is not welcome on this world." He bows a little, shorted the distance between him and the three on the ground. "You may think you are powerful and mighty, but don't get cocky. We bare magic that you will never understand. We will be prepared to fight against you if you dare to return, even if it's just a courteous visit. Take this as your final warning…"

**OOO**

There was no arguing with Dumbledore after that. The Nobodies returned to their room and packed their bags for the next day. They had to leave soon anyway, so departing early wasn't going to hurt. Zexion swallowed down half of a hi-potion, poured the other half over his arm, and the burn disappeared into little more than a swollen heated patch, a pale pink against his white skin.

They hardly slept last night, only staying in a state of dozy limbo throughout the hours. They woke up too early and took one last walk around the castle, announcing their premature departure to members of the staff who were already awake and strolling about. They claimed that a dire occurrence has arisen back in their hometown and they urgently had to go back. They didn't come across Severus all morning. Zexion counted his blessings.

When the word of the temporary teachers' departure spread to the children, many of their classes made their best efforts to go to their classroom and wish them farewells and good luck for their journey. Honestly, the Nobodies were quite flattered with the turnout. They didn't know they made such an impression on the student body.

"We are really going to miss you, Professors" Lavender says with a sad smile, looking a little down-hearted. "Your class was the best."

"Even if Professor Read is bonkers" Ron jokes.

"You should be thankful that you don't have to live with him" Vexen smirks, amused as Zexion furrows his brow at him. The boy grumbles something under his breath, maybe a swear, then returns to shake hands with some of the students - Harry, Hermione, Neville, Lee, Angelina, one of the twins, (Fred, or was it George?) then the other.

"We will miss you all as well," Zexion sighs, a little breathless from all of the handshaking. "… I'm sure Professor Stone will come over to say goodbye too as soon as he has escaped his mob."

In a far corner of the room, Lexaeus is trapped by the young lower-school girls pooling around him, waist-deep in black robes. The man is smiling warmly down at them all, exchanging many embraces and having to wipe the odd tear from a soft cheek now and again. They are all talking at once; some saying heartbreaking farewells, some pleading and begging with him to not leave them like this so soon, if not at all, with their voices stressed and a couple chocking with sobs.

"We are going to miss you _sooo_ much, Professor."

"_Please_ don't go."

"We want to stay here at Hogwarts."

"You can have Snape's job. No one would mind and you'll be great at it."

"I'm very honoured by all of this" Lexaeus chuckles. "Really I am, but I don't deserve it. I'm sure you will have more brilliant teachers in the future who will be far better than me."

"No, they won't!"

"We like _you_."

"Will you see you again?"

"That is always a possibility" Lexaeus lies kindly. "We will just have to wait and see."

Feeling something soft wrap around his neck, Lexaeus stiffens out of reaction but relaxes when he sees it is just a Gryffindor house scarf.

"This is for you," Ginny grins from over his shoulder, adjusting the material. "It's a little farewell gift." Lexaeus smiles again, the effort almost hurting his craggy features since he hardly ever smiles like this.

"Thank you, Ginny" he says, completely honest with his words as he makes the scarf a little less tight. "This is very much appreciated."

Through all the pleasant chaos, Vexen spots a blonde-haired figure stroll by the door, not even glancing into the classroom to see what is happening. The man gets up.

"I'll be back in a moment." He half-walks, half-runs out of there, thankful that his target hasn't gone too far away. "Luna!"

Luna pauses and looks around, smiling at the man. "Hello, Professor."

"Did you not want to say goodbye?" Vexen asks, not upset by not even receiving an informal _"see you around"_ but curious to why the girl didn't pay a visit.

"You looked busy with everyone else" Luna shrugs. "I didn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense." Vexen shakes his head, waving his hand as if to dismiss the idiotic idea. "It would have need nice to see you once least time actually."

Luna smiles at the words. "Well, we are here now. I might as well say goodbye while I have the chance." She extends a hand. "It was nice meeting you, Professor Frost. You are a very interesting man, half-banshee or not."

Vexen feels his left eye twitch at the banshee comment but he takes her hand into his anyway.

"You are a very interesting person too, Luna… maybe a little too interesting."

**OOO**

They walk for a while, until they lose track of time and where they are all together. They wait until they were miles away from school buildings and are hidden deep in the shadows of the forest before they stop. They sit around on old boulders or on the overgrown roots of trees, not looking at each other. They look at nothing in particular: Zexion towards the floor, Lexaeus straight forward and Vexen skyward. More minutes slip by, almost a half-an-hours' worth, before someone speaks.

"…Do you think," Vexen mutters, "that there was any truth behind Dumbledore's words?"

"I know a liar when I see one" Zexion tells him, lifting his head a touch. "Aldus Dumbledore does not fall under that category."

"So if we came back again with deadly attentions, will you think they will ready and fight back?"

"I don't know about ready but they will fight back… and they may be our equals. Maybe they are even more powerful than the Organization. They are large by numbers anyway."

"But we have the lesser Nobodies."

"True, but they are weak." Zexion brings his knees to his chest, embracing them with a sigh. "I don't know what we such do."

Vexen shakes his head. He doesn't know what they should do either. Lexaeus shifts his weight slightly, running his fingers through his curly hair.

"Maybe it's not just the threat of retaliation that is making us stop and think" he muses. His comrades blink at him. "Maybe," he continues, "it's the bond we have form with this place that is confusing us."

IV and VI widen their eyes at the Hero. What was he talking about? What bond? They are Nobodies; the creatures who exist without hearts, without emotion, were nothing but shallow beings. They should feel nothing for some children they hardly know. This whole idea is making them uncomfortable.

"…So what are you saying?" Vexen quires. "We have developed a conscience and morels because of these people?"

"Not a conscience" Lexaeus says with a shake of his head. "We are people without hearts. For us to develop a conscience will be bending nature to the extreme..." He looks down and his hand touches the gold and crimson scarf around his neck, keeping him warm from the brisk breeze. He smiles. "But we can develop attachments. Our relationships with the students have affected us. We had taken on fake lives for this mission, but they became part of those lives as time has gone on. We changed somewhat. Do you understand?"

It takes a while for the earth-worker's words to sink in. The wind wipes up leaves and dust on the forest floor. The birds overhead tweet and chatter to one another. The Nobodies smile.

"And here we though this mission was a good idea" Vexen smirks.

"Well, gentlemen, it was fun while it lasted." Zexion stands up, pulling at his colourful robes around him as he thought. "However, I do believe we have overstayed our welcome."

"What about the Superior? What do we tell him?"

"We will just convince him that this world has no greater value then the next humdrum place. We are trusted, being founding members, and he will believe us. Then we will return to our normal routines and schedules. We will keep these memories to ourselves."

"That sounds very doable" Lexaeus sighs. He stands straight and shrugs his luggage bag over his broad shoulder. "I was starting to feel a little homesick anyway. It will be nice to see the others again."

"Some more than other if you ask me" Vexen says gruffly, throwing some ash-blond hair over his own shoulder. "Shall we be off then?" He raises a single hand in the air and opens a dark portal out of nothing. The darkness dances at the air, making a calm whooshing noise like the waves of the sea, or maybe like those of the school's lake. The scientist leans down to retrieve his bag.

"Vexen?"

The ice mage looks up, seeing Zexion and Lexaeus staring down at him.

"Yes?"

"The report" Zexion says. "What will you do to it?"

"Ah. You have a valid point." From his bag, Vexen pulls out a bundle of dog-eared parchment tied up with string, covered in last-minute notes. Not the most attractive piece of text, but it was hefty. Slowly, creeping along from his fingertips, a thick layer of icy frost covers the yellowing paper, turning its colour a whole new colour. White swirls cross the scribbled penmanship, until the whole surface of the paper is crackling with the pressure of the cold encasing. Then Vexen just throws it against the ground with a florist wave of his hand, making it smash into many splinters, crushing with a sound akin to glass shattering. It makes a pretty, shimmering mess on the ground.

"I'm sorry, Vexen" Lexaeus sighs. "This seems like a waste after all that work you did."

"It's nothing. Although the children were interesting, there was nothing great to up into the report," the Academic shrugs. He steps on some of the ice shards, mashing them into the dirt. "It was mostly waffle and padding. I have something much more amazing to take back to Never Was anyway."

"You do?"

"I should say so!" With a devious schoolboy grin, Vexen opens up his bag and pulls out a small, bulging sack. The ratters and rustles with all the wrappers and little boxes inside. "I visited Honeydukes during the week. I want to know what the Wizards make their candy from. It may prove to be a series of fascinating experiments."

"So you bought half of their stock?" Zexion asks with amusement, putting his hands on his hips. "You are like a child, Vexen."

The man furrows his brow.

"Just for that, you can't have any left-over subjects" he huffs, before pulling out an acid pop and shoving it into his own mouth. With his travel bag on one shoulder and his sweetie bag over the other, Vexen strides into the shadows portal and disappears onto the other side, looking a lot like a bad Christmas elf having stolen Santa's bag.

Zexion laughs, shaking his head. "I think we will be hearing a few explosions from the labs for the next couple of weeks." He looks up at Lexaeus by his side, smiling fondly. "What about you, dear V? Are you going to miss your flocks of tiny fellows?"

Lexaeus chuckles softly at the joke, the sound grumbling low in his throat. He pulls his gift scarf a little tighter around his neck.

"I think I have been blessed with all the attention and affection a man deserves in his whole lifetime in just these few short weeks" he says. "I've been spoilt enough."

"No need for you to get big-headed" Zexion teases. "That's the last thing we need."

Lexaeus laughs again and takes a few steps towards the portal, but then he pauses, thinking. He turns back around to face his young friend.

"Maybe it is for the best to leave" he sighs. "I know it had been upsetting for those poor girls to see me go but if they ever found out I was a being of darkness and could not love them in return, it might have broken their little hearts to despair."

Zexion nods his head slowly. "Yes. We should leave all the children with a good impression. Leave them something they will enjoy to remember, rather have them look back on us with hate and anger."

Content with the Schemer's words, Lexaeus makes an understanding noise and walk on through the portal, his form lost in the black. Zexion stands in the wood alone for a little while longer, listening to the wind and the creaking of the trees, the melody of the birds. He can smell firewood and roast boar: the kitchens are preparing for tonight's dinner.

"Yes…" Zexion smiles slightly, "maybe it is for the best." He turns around and faces the direction of Hogwarts. He could just see it standing out in the hollows of the mountains, hiding, protecting itself. "I have a feeling they will be facing their own pains and problems soon anyway."

He steps through the portal and it closes behind him, swallowing itself into oblivion. It is as if they were never there, save from the footsteps in the dirt and icy-and-paper sludge melting into the dust, but that will be gone by evening's end. The wind keeps blowing. The leaves keep dancing. In the distance, the Whomping Willow keeps groaning with the birdsong.

* * *

_I plan on writing a small follow-up of this story in the form of a one-shot called "The Honeydukes Heist". You can all guess what that will be about. If you like this story, please look out for that one._


End file.
